Grim Views

By Anaie 2/5/2008

((This takes place after Anaie's last entry in her journal on 1/28/08. Journal events after that date take place in concert with these posts. See also Anaie's Awakening as a Forsaken for more of her rp background.))

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A dark figure crouched atop the tombstone, perfectly balanced despitethe driving rain, staring at Stuart. At least he thought she wasstaring, the cowled metal skull mask barely moved, its black eyes justwatched him work. The person was obviously female, and most likelyhuman, from the shape betrayed by her dark armor, but she wore nocolors marking her as a member of any faction of brigands ore militarygroups.

Stuart could barely see her, only a shadowy shape, unless a flash oflightning lit the area. When that happened the light reflected off ofthe terrifying mask, the grinning skull. Every stroke of lightning,each crack of the thunder, made him jump. His eyes playing tricks onhim, making him see the figure lunge for him, that dagger held high todrive into his heart. She never moved, not even a flinch, she justwatched him dig.

You had to have one more drink in the tavern... had to spend that extra half hour... Stuart thought to himself.

He had been hurrying back to Menethil Harbor from his journey toIronforge after going to sell some fish he caught that morning.Hurrying because he took that extra drink from his dwarven friend.Hurrying because, while the wetlands were Alliance lands, they were farfrom safe... and his delay caused him to be caught on the road as thesun hid behind the horizon.

The storm only slowed his journey more, and he was vigilant to keep hiseyes open for crocolisks wandering near the road, or groups of gnollsfrom the swamps, or orcs from the hills. Normally the roads were safefrom such incursions, but there were the stories of people beingdragged away by one of those dangers.

He never even heard this one though... even after she pounced on himfrom behind. She wrapped her arm around his neck, and brought the blackdagger in front of his face, running it gently over his skin. Stuartwanted to fight her off, but he could feel the leather armor pressagainst his back and his fists would do no good against it. So hesurrendered immediately, without a struggle, thinking of his twochildren that awaited him at home.

Give it what it wants and maybe you will live to see Julia and Morganna again... he thought to himself as he raised his arms in compliance.

The attacker spun Stuart around, grabbing him by the collar roughly,the grinning metallic skull mask staring into him. She never said aword, merely tilted her head to the side a bit, much like a dog doeswhen it watches something curiously. After a few moments, she spun himaround again and shoved him forward, walking him along the road foranother few miles.

As they came upon the old cemetary near the crossroads that led to theHarbor and to the Highlands, she stopped him. She only looked at himand gestured toward the graves, toward a simple shovel that restedagainst a tombstone, barely visible in the downpour.

"You want me to dig?" Stuart asked, his voice starting to shake with fear.

Light she is going to make me dig my own grave...

The woman merely motioned for Stuart to get to work with a nod of her head toward the shovel and the graves...

Perched on the tombstone, Anaie watched the human work in the drivingrain. He was growing exhausted, but he worked on. She could see hislips moving in silent prayers as he dug, could hear him occasionallysay the same words over and over.

Names perhaps? Your children? Your wife? she wondered. Perhaps you will see them again...

The rogue was not sure what she would do with him.

He was smart enough to not struggle, to not make this difficult. He did not cause any trou...

Her thoughts were cut short by the sound of the shovel striking wood.

Hopping down from the stone, Anaie slowly walked to the hole. Shecrouched down beside it, ignoring the human who seemed happy to have abrief rest. Standing up quickly, she pointed her blade at the man, andback to the hole.

"Clear the coffin." she said flatly, knowing the man could not understand her at all.

He nodded in reply, understanding what the rogue wanted, his eyeswidening a bit as he heard her voice for the first time. The man jumpeddown into the hole and continued his work.

It did not take much longer before he was done, the small coffin fullycleared of earth. She gestured for him to lift the contents of thegrave up to her, to which he complied.

Where it all began... Anaie thought back on the night she firstbroke free as she ran a gloved hand over the decaying casket. Sheremembered that night so clearly now, how similar it was to this night.She remembered breaking the childs mothers neck, murdering the rest ofthe people there, nearly killing Laurel. It would have been easier to have killed her then...

Looking down at the man in the grave still, Anaie slid her mask uprevealing her face. It was not decayed like many of the Forsaken, buther race was clear to him based on the wide eyed terror that took over.Smiling softly, she extended her gloved hand to him to help him fromthe hole, nodding.

The human was reluctant at first, but he took her hand soon enough andshe easily lifted him from the hole. Anaie gently stroked the manscheek as the rain continued to pour down on them.

It is time to let him go now.

She smiled again and took the man in a gentle hug, prompting the man toweakly smile as well in return. Anaie did not see his face or feel anytype of remorse as she drove Plaguebringer into his back, directly intohis heart. She just held him tightly as his body convulsed a few timesand went limp.

The rogue lowered the man to the ground slowly, gently and stared athim. She could smell so many things, the freshly dug earth and thescent of his blood standing out the strongest.

How peaceful you seem... she mused to herself as she brushed his soaked hair away from his forehead. Gone are all your troubles, your worries. Now there is only sleep.

Gathering the body up in her arms, she turned and walked to the nearestmarsh. She waded into the water up to her waist, unfazed by thecrocolisks that were no doubt nearby. Anaie set the body amongst someweeds before turning and heading back to the dug out grave.

Alone in the driving storm she stood for a few minutes, though itseemed much longer to her as she looked at the hole and the smallsimple coffin resting next to it. Nodding to herself, she lowered hermask and used her dagger to pry open the rotting wood.

A musty smell rose from the box as its lid popped off with ease, thecontents inside nothing more than a small skeleton of a deceased baby.Anaie picked up the tiny skull and held it in her hand for a momentbefore a low, beastial growl rumbled forth from her lips. She tossedthe skull into the dug out grave, and dumped the remaining bones atopit, before setting the coffin down and picking Plaguebringer back upinto her hand.

Your lies did this to me... I will not let you gain any further joy from my torment. she looked to the north as she thought the words, toward the plagued lands.

With one last thought of her lover and her sister, Anaie plunged thedagger into her midsection, eviscerating herself above the small coffin.

Pain. Physical pain greater than any she had ever felt before torethrough Anaie's body. She wavered slightly as the her witheredintestines spilled forth, followed by the dead child that was withinher. Her legs shook, and the rogue looked to the sky, the rain comingdown meeting with the tears streaking her face. She knew she could haveended herself in a much less painful way, but she wanted to feelherself end.

Her chest rose as she took in a breath, she could smell everything evenas her vision started to fade to black. Her knees buckled and shetumbled forward, into the open grave, her dagger falling to the mudburying itself to the hilt.

As she lay dying in the hole with the pain assaulting her and hersenses failing, the rogue smiled absently. Her final thought as sheslipped into unconsciousness was that she would no longer be the Lich'stoy, that she had escaped once and for all. Her days as a partiallyliving and partially dead madwomen were over.

The woman shot upwards from the mat with a gasp, her glowing yelloweyes wide and her breath a deep wheeze. Breathing heavily for a fewmoments Anaie slowly realized she was in a wooden building and sittingupright on a straw mat. She still had her black leather pants on buther chest armor and shirt were nowhere to be seen.

She felt odd... a bit lightheaded perhaps, but the feeling wasdifficult to describe. Last she remembered she had bled out in ashallow grave in the wetlands, a victim of her own blade. Her clawswere dug into the wood floor tightly as she tried to figure out whathad happened.

Why am I still alive...? the rogue thought to herself as she looked down at her exposed stomach and the stitches that held her flesh closed.

Looking about she saw a Forsaken male walking over toward her cautiously. "Anaie, is it not?"

The rogue nodded slowly, she recognized the man, he had trained her in the art of mending wounds.

Seeing the woman was not about to tear his throat out the manapproached closer. "I am Doctor Gregory Victor, I sewed your woundsclosed for you so that your body could undergo the transformation." Henodded proudly at the stitchwork he had done.

"Why did ya bring me back?" Anaie asked. "It was finally ovah."

The man smirked somewhat cruelly, "I did no such thing. I merelystitched you up so that the Apothecaries could use their rituals toraise you from the dead. They just chose to leave you here afterwardsin my care, as not all survive the process of rebirth." The mangestured with a hand and walked over to a desk where he lifted a heavybackpack and carried it toward the her. "Your things, the orc thatbrought your body to us left them. He also handed us this book. Do notworry, I did not read it. That much of his words I could figure out....quite a unique dialect he spoke, and my orcish is quite astounding."

Grog... she sighed softly at the thought of her lover. " 'e made you bring me back?"

The Doctor nodded, "He was quite upset. I thought he was going totear my arms off at one point. He sought an immediate solution, whereasthat is not really possible. I had to send off word to Undercity to getthe Royal Apothecary Society to send someone trained in the necromanticrituals needed to return the dead to life... if you will. He left yourbelongings and some gold to cover the costs and I have not seen himsince."

" 'ow long ago?" she asked, cracking her neck. She felt no pain orsoreness from her abdomen, odd as before her pain senses were dulledbut never gone.

"You have been here about a month. The R.A.S. took some timegetting here, and then the necromancy took some time to fully takehold. There was some type of residual binding magic upon your body thathad to be shattered. I had you stitched up neatly well before the RASarrived." Again he smiled, proud of his work. "In fact now that you areawake, I can remove the stitches. The magic should have done most ofthe work in fusing the flesh together."

He stepped forward and produced a sharp blade to slice thestitching. Anaie did not flinch as he removed them, she just sat therestaring at the journal next to her.

I can't face him... not now. she thought as the Doctor stood, finished with his task.

"You should be quite fine to depart whenever you see fit. You willfind necromancy does wonders for the bodies strength."

Anaie nodded and pushed herself to her feet. She still felt odd,as if her body was not quite yet feeling all sensory inputs. She pickedup her things, and left the building, making her way toward theHammerfall Inn.